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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227273">he won't tell you that he loves you (but he loves you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextstopparis/pseuds/nextstopparis'>nextstopparis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>merthur week [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, fluff fluff fluffidy fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:54:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextstopparis/pseuds/nextstopparis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur drops the book he has been inspecting in shock, and stares at Merlin, stunned. A part of him prays to a God - any God - that this isn’t happening.</p>
<p>For Day 1 of Merthur Week 2020: "You're an idiot" "But you love me." + Fluff</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>merthur week [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Merthur Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>he won't tell you that he loves you (but he loves you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>IM SO HORRIBLE i literally like. made a whole doc and everything like. weeks ago. to write all these ahead of time. *John mulaney voice* AND THEN I DIDN'T. anyway I reread it like twice so I hope there are little to no mistakes seilfjsli</p>
<p>ALSO I DONT KNOW ANY JOKES ABOUT BRASS SO THE ONE I MADE UP IS SO HORRIBLY HORRIBLE GEORGE WOULDVE K WORDED ME OMG</p>
<p>title from a poem by Richard Siken</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Resting his head on his arms, Arthur watches Merlin work. </p>
<p>Gaius has been gone for half a fortnight - will be gone for another two, as well - and in his absence, Arthur has (very generously, might he add) given up his own manservant to serve as a temporary physician, in Gaius’ place. </p>
<p>It has been <em> half a fortnight </em> of George’s jokes about brass, and Arthur, quite frankly, is done. </p>
<p>Seven days of only seeing and hearing of Merlin in passing. Seven days without sarcastic comments and - honestly, almost impressive - treasonous names.</p>
<p>Seven days of peace - barring George, of course - really. </p>
<p>Six days too long. </p>
<p>Not that he will ever admit it, but even the - genuinely - horrendous jests aside, he has missed Merlin (somewhat) (well, alright, a little more than somewhat) (not that anyone else needs to know, mind). </p>
<p>Right now, he’s organizing Gaius’ many tonics and things. Which, really, just goes to show that he very much <em> can </em> clean things up, but chooses to conveniently forget when it comes to Arthur’s room. </p>
<p>Well. And his own room. But - still.</p>
<p>“Why’re you pouting?” </p>
<p>“I’m not,” he says, dismissing thoughts of Merlin’s room and gull.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you are,” and really, is it <em> so much </em> to expect Merlin to learn <em> some </em> discretion in the six years he’s worked for the crown? Is it <em> really </em>? </p>
<p>(Also, Arthur is <em> not </em> pouting. He’s <em> not.</em>)</p>
<p>“Merlin,” he says, in a voice perfectly pleasant and amiable and patient, “I. Do not. Pout.” </p>
<p>Of course, that gets nothing but an eyebrow raise and quirk of lips that Arthur just <em> knows </em> means he’s being humoured. But what did he expect? Unlike some horrificly treasonous and incompetent manservants, Arthur actually <em> learns </em>from his experiences.</p>
<p>“Of course not, sire. Never pouted a day in your life - truly an example for all prince babies in the five kingdoms, you were.”</p>
<p>“Do you miss the stocks? I reckon it’s been a while since you’ve visited them,” he wonders aloud, and swears he can see Merlin’s shoulders shake, “really Merlin, all you needed to do was ask. I’d hate to keep you behind closed doors when you’d rather get pelted with food. Actually,”</p>
<p>A moment after Merlin’s suspicious glare, Arthur smiles as dazzlingly as he was taught since birth, when his only responsibility was winning the hearts of powerful potential allies, and adds: “I, myself, have missed seeing you be pelted with food.”</p>
<p>Merlin’s smiles have always been lovely - er. No. They’ve always been contagious. Yes. Yes, contagious. But the sarcastic smile he throws over his shoulder towards Arthur is especially - er - hilarious, and has the king tilting his head with a soft laugh falling from his lips. </p>
<p>“What’re you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have knights to scare and council members to reduce to tears?”</p>
<p>“Trying to get rid of your king, <em> Mer</em>lin? Not very patriotic of you, is it? And anyway, I don’t scare the knights. I just - teach them caution. Also, if anyone’s reduced to tears in those council meetings, it’s <em> me</em>, they’re all so dreadfully boring,” he grumbles, picking up a book to inspect. He hopes Merlin isn’t trying to get rid of him. </p>
<p>(Not that he cares.)</p>
<p>“Yeah, <em> I know</em>, you make me attend them for whatever reason - ”</p>
<p>“- Mutual suffering is part of your job - ”</p>
<p>“- It is <em> not, </em> you insufferable prat! But anyway, I also know that they want to weep every time you suggest something even remotely outside of tradition, so my point stands.” Arthur grins as he flips through the pages, shrugging. </p>
<p>After a moment of silence:</p>
<p>“And, I’m not.” </p>
<p>Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Arthur looks up, only to see Merlin very pointedly not looking at him. </p>
<p>“You’re not what?”</p>
<p>“Trying to get rid of you. I,” he clears his throat, “er, that is, I like when you’re here.”</p>
<p>And Arthur -</p>
<p>He might be going insane, because his face flushes and he’s dreadfully aware that it has more to do with being <em> pleased </em> than embarrassed and -</p>
<p>Yes. The king has definitely lost his mind. That’s the only explanation. Suddenly, Merlin’s refusal to look at him is a blessing bestowed on him by God himself. </p>
<p>Arthur clears his throat.</p>
<p>“Yes, well. I’m only here as a last attempt to escape George. He really, really has quite a collection of truly abysmal jokes. I might be impressed if I was sure it isn’t some form of newly contrived torture.” Another laugh crosses the room to Arthur, filling his ears and washing its way through his body. </p>
<p>(Oh - there’s that feeling again.)</p>
<p>“Does he just randomly start reciting his jokes to you?” Merlin snickers, again, finally turning his head. His eyes are crinkled with mirth, and really - that’s just unfair.</p>
<p>(Perhaps <em> lovely </em> wasn’t completely wrong.)</p>
<p>Arthur swallows.</p>
<p>“Er, no. Well - no, not really. He sort of - slips it into conversation. Whenever I try to start one with him, that is.” And in hindsight, perhaps he should stop doing that. Save himself some thread of sanity. </p>
<p>“Ah,” his manservant has been laughing at him for <em> six years</em>.</p>
<p>“It’s just - I can’t have one conversation without a joke about brass assaulting it!” </p>
<p>Merlin laughs, looking at him again, and as pretty - no. No, er. Nice. Just nice. As nice as his eyes are to look at (oh, heavens, that’s not much better than pretty though, is it?), Arthur is getting <em> thoroughly </em> tired of the mischievous glint in them that can mean nothing but <em> pain</em>.</p>
<p>“Well, sire, that’s rather...<em> brass... </em> of him…” </p>
<p>
  <em> Pain. </em>
</p>
<p>Arthur drops the book he has been inspecting in shock, and stares at Merlin, stunned. A part of him prays to a God - any God - that this isn’t happening. </p>
<p>After three minutes of silence and nothing else, Merlin clears his throat.</p>
<p>“...Er. Get it? Because it’s rather <em> crass </em>but he was -“</p>
<p>“Merlin, if you finish that sentence, I swear to god I will make you -” </p>
<p>“What? Spend time with him to learn <em> more </em>jokes about brass to bestow upon your ears?” </p>
<p>One really annoying thing about Merlin (besides, you know, <em> everything else</em>) is how well he’s learned to mimic Gaius’ imperious eyebrow raise. </p>
<p>Arthur scowls, “talking back to your king is treason, Merlin,” and wistfully thinks back to when he could send his manservant to the stocks on a whim, without the uncomfortable guilt swirling restlessly in his stomach. </p>
<p>“Even when my Lord deserves it?” He asks, and - as if trying to further prove his <em> insolence </em> and <em> complete disregard of formality and Arthur’s sanity </em> - Arthur's <em> disgraceful </em> excuse of a manservant flutters his eyelashes, faking - quite horribly, mind - innocence. As if he hadn't, just <em> two seconds ago </em> said -</p>
<p>Arthur very pointedly ignores the stuttering of his heart.</p>
<p>“How is it that years of servitude have managed to turn you into an <em> even worse </em>servant?” The king wonders aloud. </p>
<p>Merlin chuckles, eyes crinkling, as he looks back again for half a second and winks.</p>
<p>“All a part of my charm, sire.” </p>
<p>But before Arthur can say anything else - the second this damned pestering organ <em> calms down</em>, mind - Merlin fumbles with the two vials in his hands, doing something akin to a juggle - or, dance? - before they fall to the ground, shattering and spilling all their contents to the floor.</p>
<p>A smirk climbs its way over Arthur's face, as he tries very hard to keep the laughter down. </p>
<p>“And - and that? Also a ‘part of your charm’, as you, so elegantly, put it?” He raises an eyebrow mockingly - it’s like some form of poetic justice, really - in question, and revels at the sight of his manservant’s blush. He’s also conveniently ignoring the flip of his stomach, but that’s not important. </p>
<p>(Perhaps he’d eaten breakfast too quickly, in his attempts to escape his room and find Merlin). </p>
<p>(Or, perhaps, he’s <em> full of shit</em>. But no one else needs to know exactly why his stomach is dancing to the ever fastening tune of his heart.)</p>
<p>Merlin’s left eye closes in a grimace, yet still, he doesn’t let up.</p>
<p>“Yes, well - it’s. It’s a very special part. Uhm. Of my charm, I mean.” </p>
<p>No longer able to hold back the laugh that’s been crawling up his throat, Arthur shakes his head in - well, alright, <em> fine </em> - obvious fondness. </p>
<p>“You’re an idiot,” he says, voice full of wonder - which, really, is completely invalid, seeing as Arthur has known this literally the <em> entire time they've known each other </em> - and Merlin's grimace slowly flourishes into a full-out, almost - well, hopeful? But hopeful for what? - grin.</p>
<p>“...But you love me, anyway?” And this time, when his breath catches in his throat and his heart skips at the same time that his stomach flips, Arthur thinks - almost hysterically - <em> oh, dear god, I do, don’t I? </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oof I hope you enjoyed it!! fluff is so fun to write sjlidjsflisj and FINALLY I wrote merlin fluff so... go me!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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